


This Lifetime

by liebegott



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 1940s, Alternate History, F/M, Government, HBO War - Freeform, Love, Military, Sadness, Second Chances, World War 2, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 14,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liebegott/pseuds/liebegott
Summary: The love of Amelia Robinson's life just asked her to run away with him. Except she had one problem: Amelia couldn't possibly leave her grandmother who single-handedly raised her. On one afternoon, her grandmother sits her down and tells her a story.It begins in 1940, in the face of the Second World War. Except, for them, in the fields of rural Philadelphia, war was at the back of their mind. The story is one of those who get left behind, a bright-haired boy, and the rolling fields where their love began.On her own, Amelia will learn the importance of each decision she makes. But together, she and her grandmother will learn all there is to know about love, commitment, and second chances.
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	1. Epigraph

I live my life  
until I start the cycle of my dreams,  
then I leave and search for you  
until I die  
when I come back,  
I live to remember,  
I live to find you

_**– Molly Bryant** _


	2. I.

Amelia sat lost in thought, her fingers drumming silently against the old oak table. Her eyes gazed longingly towards the horizon, the stretch of green fields, and the brilliant summer sun. A familiar voice was humming softly, a little grunt here and there whenever her finger got pricked by the needle firmly pinched between her index finger and her thumb. Amelia sighed, her lip jutting out in a little pout.

 _"_ Honeybunch _,"_ her grandmother's gentle voice resonated through the room as she placed the cloth she was working on on the table beside her, "You don't need to sigh to let me know you're upset." The young woman turned her head, before slumping back down onto the table.

 _"_ Nana, how do you always know?" Amelia asked, the same question she always had since she was a little girl. Her grandma had raised her since she was a small child, as her mother passed during childbirth, and her father simply left.

"That's my job, Amelia," she smiled knowingly. Tapping her legs, she urged her to move closer, "What's on your mind?"

The young woman stood, turning off the stove and taking the whistling pot to pour her grandmother a cup of tea. Her grandmother always had a cup of rosehip tea before bed, two cubes of sugar and a bit of milk. "He asked me to move away with him," she paused as she dropped the two cubes of sugar into the mug, "to New Jersey."

"Well?" the elderly woman smiled expectantly, "Tell me you said yes, dear."

Amelia scoffed, "Of course not! Nana, I can't leave you here alone."

Her grandmother scoffed back, the perfect mirror image of her granddaughter, "I'm not alone. I've got the knitting club!" Though she tried to joke, she saw the young woman's face fall, "Honeybunch, thank you for all that you do for me." She stroked Amelia's hair gently as she handed her grandmother her cup of tea. Settling back down on her rocking chair, placing her warm mug on her side table, she pat the armrest of her chair, urging her granddaughter to sit at her feet like she always did whenever she was sad. "Come here, dear. I have a story for you."

_"It was the summer of 1940..."_


	3. II.

"I was sitting in my room," the old woman started, taking sections of her granddaughters hair, "Singing along to Hank Williams like I always did as I cleaned."

_"Eleanor!" Her mother called, startling her enough that her voice cracked. Lowering the volume on her radio, she ran downstairs, where her younger siblings were busy helping their mother clean the kitchen. There were 8 children in total, with Eleanor at the lead. That meant she was responsible for everyone, and that also meant she never had any time alone, for herself. "Dear, we have new neighbors. They have five," her mother lifted a hand, showing all five fingers, "Five children. Can you believe that?"_

_Eleanor simply nodded, knowing full well where this was going, "I suspect you want me to bring eggs to sell to them?"_

_"You read my mind," her mother smiled, handing her a basket filled with eggs._

_"Mother, we sell eggs to literally the whole town. I don't wanna be known as the egg girl," the young woman grumbled, but accepted the basket anyway, ready to put on her shoes._

_"That's seven people including the parents, imagine how much eggs they eat!"_

_As Eleanor walked towards her new neighbors house, she stopped to look towards the rolling green fields she called home. It was 1940, and for the past few months, nations in Europe had been in war with one another. Germany had invaded Poland the year before, and just days later, France and Britain joined forces to try and end the occupation._

_But that was Europe. Where they were from, it was quiet. The only noise came from her mother, scolding her kids into doing their chores, and in her case, into selling strangers eggs._

_Her shoes crunched in the gravel, as Eleanor stopped in front of a rather large house overlooking a farm. Bringing her knuckles to the front door, Eleanor took a deep breath, wondering who out of all seven people apparently living in this home would answer the front door._

_Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard someone behind her clear their throat. "Can I help you?" a young man with striking red hair ask_ _ed_ _. His tone was not hostile, but rather kind, and Eleanor's tense shoulders relaxed._

_"Yes," she paused, suddenly remembering she had a basket filled with eggs, "I was wondering if you'd like to buy some eggs?"_

_"It depends," the young man squinted, lifting his chin ever so slightly, "How much are they?"_

_"30 cents for a dozen," she replied, showing the young man the basket of perfectly good eggs, "But I can give you two dozen for 50 cents."_

_The young man nodded, picking up an egg and bringing it towards the sun, squinting one of his eyes, "How much do I have to pay for you to come back tomorrow?"_

_Eleanor couldn't help but smile._


	4. III.

"Nana," Amelia exclaimed, bashfully, "Please tell me you went back." The older woman laughed, gently braiding her granddaughter's long brown hair.

"Amelia," she laughed, "What kind of woman would I be if I didn't return when a handsome young man asked me to visit again?" With a twinkle in her eye, her grandmother continued her story.

_Eleanor felt silly. And that said a lot since she always kept everything in order. She now stood in front of her mirror, trying to flatten the curls on her head. They were especially unruly today, and such a horrible day to be unruly it was. The redheaded boy had asked her to return today with more eggs._

_With her nicest dress on, Eleanor bounded down the stairs, stopping only to tell her mother she was headed out. "Where are you off to looking like that?" her mother asked, barely looking up. Her mother's eyebrows scrunched in focus as she fixed up a hole in her_ _brother's_ _pants._

_"Eggs, mother. They asked me to bring more," Eleanor responded, and her mother grinned, nodding towards another basket of fresh eggs. With a hum, she sent her daughter on her way._

_Eleanor walked the same path she did yesterday, except this time, she wore her church shoes. They didn't crunch on the gravel as her regular shoes did, so she tried her best to walk as slowly as possible as to not scruff them up. As she neared the house, she saw him._

_He was standing where he was yesterday, tending to a garden. His red hair was all spikes on his head, making Eleanor smile to herself. Maybe today was a day for unruliness for both of them. He noticed her approaching and stood, dusting off his trousers. His eyes landing on the basket in her hands, the young man let out a snort._

_"What are the eggs for, doll?" he asked, pointing at the basket with a spade._

_"I thought you told me to come back tomorrow with more," she asked, her brows furrowing in confusion, "So I brought more. They're fresh."_

_For some reason, that made him laugh even more. Luckily, he fished out a couple of coins and got the eggs from her. Handing it to her, the redhead smiled. "Maybe you should bring more tomorrow," he joked, but it flew right past Eleanor's head. She took a mental note to remember to tell her mum they wanted more._

_The young man gestured at her to stay put, tossed his spade on the ground, then headed inside with the eggs. "So," he began, rubbing his hands together, "I'm Babe. Since we're neighbors and all, we should probably get acquainted, right?"_

_"Of course," she nodded politely, playing with a loose thread on her dress. She_ _wish she had_ _something nicer if she knew he was going to speak to her. "I'm Eleanor, uh, Robinson."_

_Babe tipped an imaginary hat, "It's a pleasure to meet you Eleanor_ _, uh,_ _Robinson. You sell eggs to everyone in town?"_

_"No, but I think my mother wants me too," she frowned, "This is the first time I was actually excited to deliver eggs."_

_"Why?" Babe asked, his cheeks turning red, "Because I'm so charming?"_

_"Oh," Eleanor gasped, blushing as well, "No, its just you guys buy so many."_

_Babe frowned, but then shook his head and let out a laugh, "You're an odd one, Eggs. You mind if I call you that by the way?"_

_Any other person and Eleanor would say yes, she did in fact mind. But this was Babe, and for some reason, everything he said sounded like good intentions._

_"I don't mind at all."_


	5. IV.

"He called you eggs?" Amelia exclaimed, turning around quickly. Her grandmother calmed her down with a hand and tugged on the braid forming on her head. Turning back around, Amelia asked, "What happened next?"

_Eleanor had returned the next day, as promised. And the next. And the next. Each day, Babe would see the basket of eggs in her arms and would let out a good laugh, but he always paid for them and asked her to return with more._

_The two sat now on the field, Babe stretched out on his back, and Eleanor with her knees to her chest, playing around with a twig she had found on their way there. "Summer's ending," she whispered, eyes towards the never-ending horizon of fields that were no longer as vibrant. "School's going to start."_

_Her voice had a twinge of sadness. School starting meant she would no longer have afternoons to spend with him. "That's right," Babe's voice interrupted her thoughts, "Can't wait to see you in school and pretend we don't know the other exists." Though Eleanor knew it was a joke, the mere idea of pretending their days spent on the fields never happened upset her._

_"Never," she frowned, tapping his long legs with her stick, "So you're definitely going to school with us?"_

_The young man simply hummed in response, bringing his arm over his eyes to shield it from the sun. Eleanor smiled, trying her best to remember what was in front of her. His hair looked especially vibrant now, his body peaceful. She blinked twice, pretending to take a picture. Hopefully, she would remember this forever._

_"Do you have any plans for school?" Babe suddenly asked as he felt her stand._

_Eleanor dusted off her skirt, looking down at the young man, looking boyish as ever, "A few. I want to be editor for the school paper." She nudged him twice with her foot, urging him to stand. As she helped him up, she asked, "What about you?"_

_"Probably the football team," he shrugged, taking her hand in his and pulling himself up. He noticed the red tinge on her cheeks but chose to ignore it anyway, "Except ma' won't let me." When he noticed the quizzical look on her face, Babe continued, "My hands," he gestured, waving them, "Sometimes they curl up into themselves and hurt like hell."_

_Eleanor never saw it happen, but from the look on his face, she decided not to ask him further. The two walked side-by-side towards a lake near the opening of a nearby forest. She noticed him looking down at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers. "Hey," he stopped suddenly, pointing a finger at her. "You better not tell anyone about my hands, alright? I'm gonna play football regardless of what ma' says."_

_Eleanor grinned, lifting up two hands in surrender, "Your secrets safe with me, Babe."_

_They continued walking in silence, finding their way to the small lake. Taking off their shoes, they sat at the edge, dipping their feet in the water. "I want to be a writer," Eleanor whispered. Babe tilted his head, questioning. "You told me a secret. I'm telling you mine. I want to be a writer."_

_"That's a good secret, Eggs." The two sat there, shoulder to shoulder, their feet wading in the clear blue water. As the sun began to set, the two picked up their shoes, tried their best to dry their feet, and walked back through the field towards his house._

_When they reached his front door, Babe smiled. "Two dozen again tomorrow?"_

_Eleanor nodded eagerly as he stepped back into his house. "Wait," she called, and he paused by his door, "I have a question for you."_

_He looked inside before stepping back out, standing in front of her. They were so close she could see the brown speckles in his eyes. Babe looked at her expectantly._

_"Do you have eggs for dinner every night? Because you buy nearly two dozen every single day." Babe simply laughed and told her to go home._

_And so she brought him eggs again the next day. It was only when he told her 2 years later that she realized he just wanted to see her._


	6. V.

The two women sat, one on the ground and one on a rocking chair, shaking with laughter. "You're telling me you sold him two dozen eggs nearly every single day and not once questioned where they were putting them?" Amelia giggled, tears forming in her eyes. Her stomach definitely hurt.

"I was 17!" her grandmother objected, watching as her granddaughter's shaking figure loosened the braid she had worked hard on, "All I knew was Hank Williams and washing the dishes." She put two arms on her granddaughter's shoulders, turning her once more so she can work on her hair again. "Imagine my dear friend Dolores' face when I told her about this," she smiled, "We laughed just as hard as you and I did just now."

_Dolores walked backwards, facing her. Her arms waved wildly and animatedly as she told her how she spent her summer in New York. She was Eleanor's closest friend, and someone she shared every secret with. Except for Babe. She wanted to keep him and what they did all summer to herself._

_"I saw Down Argentine Way in cinema," Dolores boasted, "Don Ameche is so handsome."_

_Eleanor scrunched her nose. "Don Ameche?" she laughed, "He's like 90 years old! You have the weirdest taste in men."_

_"What can I say?" her friend shrugged, turning back around to walk by Eleanor's side, "Oh right, have you heard? We have five new people in school."_

_Eleanor bit her lip and nodded, and Dolores continued, "I heard they're all brothers, and they all have red hair. How crazy is that?" Her friend laughed in response, it was so Dolores to be excited about new boys. "I hope at least one is cute and in our grade," Dolores said to herself, rubbing her hands together, "I've grown to accept that Don and I simply can't be together."_

_Letting out a laugh, the two girls linked arms and walked up to the entrance of their highschool. Navigating the hallways was a nightmare, as everyone had just come back from the summer. The hallways were filled with ruckus, with girls excitedly running to each other, and boys bumping shoulders and high-fiving. It felt like everyone had an amazing summer and couldn't wait to tell their friends about it. Eleanor still thought her summer was the best._

_Her thoughts were cut short when she heard a familiar voice call out to her, "Eggs!" She paused, slowly turning as she saw bright red hair making his way through the crowded hallways. "Wait up."_

_He stopped in front of them, and Dolores stared at his hair with wide eyes, before staring back at her friend. Babe put an arm around her shoulder and grinned, "Hey, Eggs. Nice seeing you here."_

_"Eggs?" Dolores asked, crossing her arms with a smile, "Who's eggs?" She knew full well who eggs was. Who else had to sell eggs to nearly all the families in town?_

_Eleanor's mouth agape, she brushed his arm off her shoulder and tried to explain. "Dolores, meet Babe. He," she paused, looking for the right words to say, "He bought eggs from me all summer."_

_The young man extended his hands for a shake, "And Dolores, meet Eggs. I bought eggs from her all summer." Dolores gave his hand a firm shake, but her eyes were still on Eleanor, "It's a real pleasure to meet you. Eleanor says wonderful things about you."_

_Eleanor pouted at him and nudged his leg with her knee. She was about to interrupt him when the bell rang. "It seems like Dolores and I definitely need to go. See you later, Babe!" She grabbed her best friends arm and dragged her down the hallway._

_Babe simply watched them walk off before going to find where his class was._

_"So, Eggs," Dolores smiled, teasingly, "Why didn't you tell me the redheads were your friends?"_

_"They aren't. Only Babe is," she replied, looking around to make sure no one was in earshot, "I haven't even seen his brothers. They're my neighbours."_

_"Your neighbours?" Dolores exclaimed in response, "Even better! How romantic." Eleanor knew she was teasing,_ _but_ _a blush crept on her cheeks. "I just don't know why you didn't tell me. If anyone were to know what the new kids were like, it should most definitely be me."_

_Dolores was the extroverted one, the other side to Eleanor's quiet coin. The two girls were inseparable, and went through everything together. She understood why her friend expected her to tell her. " You were in New York with your aunt."_

_"Yes_ _,_ _and you could've wrote."_

_"I forgot," Eleanor paused, trying to find an excuse, "They were new?"_

_Dolores laughed, pinching her best friends' cheeks, "Yes, El, because there are a thousand of us here with hair like that." Eleanor was quiet, unable to put into words why she never spoke._

_She knew deep down there was no good reason to hide things from her best friend. Dolores suddenly wrapped her arms around her shoulders in a tight hug, "That's fine, but you need to tell me everything at lunch."_

_Eleanor nodded and the two walked into their class. Settling on their seats, Dolores suddenly leaned over and whispered, "So, selling eggs, huh? That code for something?" The girl winked, making Eleanor shake her head fervently._

_"It wasn't like that." she explained, leaning in as well, "I guess they just eat a lot of eggs."_


	7. VI.

The older woman took a sip of her tea that cooled down, and continued combing through her granddaughter's hair. "Of course, I didn't pretend I didn't know him. After enough teasing from Dolores, I eventually called him over to sit with us during lunch, and the teasing eventually stopped."

_Dolores and Babe laughed, deep in conversation about something they saw on television. Eleanor never watched television because she was too busy helping out at the house after school. She bit back whatever she was feeling and played around with her food on her tray, suddenly no longer hungry._

_"Right, Eggs?" She heard Babe ask, and she whipped her head up to face him._

_"I'm sorry I didn't.." she trailed off._

_"I was just telling Dolores about the lake we found during the summer." Babe replied, and Eleanor suddenly felt sick. It was their lake, there was a reason she never mentioned it to anyone. She simply nodded, and slowly stood up._

_"I just remembered," Eleanor mumbled, taking her tray, "I have homework I haven't finished. I'll do it in the library."_

_She quickly walked off without looking at them, jealousy deep in her heart. Eleanor knew she wasn't pretty enough, but she hadn't nearly felt uglier than she did when she realized she was angry at Dolores for simply talking to him. It was a horrible feeling, and Dolores was her best friend._

_She pushed open the library door, making her way to a table at the end, away from everyone else. Sitting herself down, Eleanor took out a book from her bag and began reading it. Despite being in the world of dragons and kings, princesses and their knights, witches and their poison, Eleanor's mind was everywhere else._

_Eleanor genuinely felt horrible. She loved her best friend, and should have been happy that she was getting along with Babe so well. But for some reason, she wasn't. She was upset with him for telling her about their lake. She was upset with him for paying more attention to Dolores than he did to her. What was this she was feeling?_

_The bell rang signifying the end of lunch break. Eleanor hadn't even flipped a page on her book._

_Finding herself back in class, Eleanor silently sat down on her chair. Dolores was already seated, and her friend looked up at her expectantly. She tried to smile at her, but could only give a half-hearted one. "You okay, El?"_

_"I'm fine," she nodded in response, then brought a finger to her lips, "Shh. Our sub is here." And that ended their conversation for the day. Dolores didn't push her further to explain, and walked silently with her out of school once the day was over._

_"I'll see you tomorrow," Eleanor mumbled. As she turned to leave, Dolores grabbed her hand and pulled her into a tight hug._

_"I love you, alright," she whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow."_

_Hand around the strap of her sidebag, Eleanor kicked at falling leaves as she made her way home. The trees were turning bright orange and red, a lot like Babe's hair. Eleanor hit her forehead with her palm. There she went again, Babe this, Babe that. Why couldn't he just leave her mind altogether?_

_"Eleanor!"_

_Now she hears him too? It was bad enough that she imagined his face all the time, even worse now that she'd started hearing him._

_"Eleanor, wait up!" she paused and turned around. No, she hadn't imagined it. Babe was bounding down towards her, "I thought you said you wouldn't ignore me?" She knew it was a joke, but felt guilty._

_Eleanor stopped to wait for him to catch up, before turning back around to continue heading home. "You okay, Eggs?" the young man frowned, turning to face her as they walked back. Eleanor simply nodded, but chose to keep quiet instead. She was not okay, definitely. But she had no idea how to express it._

_After a few minutes of walking in silence, they had reached his house. He waited expectantly for her to say something, but when she didn't, he turned away in disappointment and began to head in the door._

_"Babe," Eleanor suddenly said, surprising not only him, but also herself, "Why did you tell her about the lake? It was our lake."_

_Babe smiles softly, taking her hand in his, "If that's what you were so upset about, why didn't you just tell me?" His tone was light, but it went straight to her heart anyway. He noticed the change in her expression and continued, "She can know everything about our summer, but she'll never understand how it felt in those fields."_

_That was enough to win back her heart. "Alright, fine." she smiled, pulling her hand away._

_"Good," he chuckled, before looking down at his feet, "Because I was kinda wondering if you wanted to go out for a milkshake or something?"_

_A blush creeped on her cheeks, but Eleanor didn't mind. Nodding, she replied, "Sure, if you promise to buy more eggs."_

_"I thought our relationship was way past that!"_

_Then two milkshakes between us eventually became just one milkshake between_ _them_ _._


	8. VII.

"Nana," Amelia exclaimed, once again moving too brashly that she messed up the braids her grandmother had once again formed on her head. "You can't skip over all the juicy parts!" Her grandmother laughed in response, finally giving up on braiding her granddaughters hair. She watched as Amelia scooted closer to her, leaning her chin on her grandmother's knee. "How did the two of you get together?"

_Eleanor was lying on her stomach, Hank Williams playing from the radio. She had just finished her homework and helped clean up after dinner. This was the rare moment she had time alone to write. Despite having a notebook open and a pen in her hand, no ideas came to her head._

_It was the December of 1941, and the Japanese had just bombed Pearl Harbor. A day after the attack, the United States declared war against Japan. Four days after the attack, Germany and Italy declared war on the United States._

_It was an odd feeling. Though the announcement had just come out, Eleanor had felt the ripples of war ebbing in her small town. Discussions of prom had become talks of enlisting and_ _the drafts_ _, and boys no longer worried about asking girls out, but instead of the possibility of fighting in the Pacific._

_The thought of Babe leaving for the Pacific came so suddenly, her chest hurt. It filled her with such sadness that she hadn't noticed pebbles hitting her windowpane._

_One, two, three. She counted the pebbles until she was sure someone was down there throwing them. Eleanor rushed to her window and poked her head out. Babe stood in her backyard, his back to her. He crouched down and picked up another, slightly bigger pebble and raise his arm to throw it when he saw her. "Oh," he smiled, tossing the rock on the ground and wiping his dusty hands on his shirt, "I thought you didn't hear me the first three times."_

_"Sorry," Eleanor began, looking back into her room, "I was busy doing something." Her mother had long gone to bed, along with her siblings, and she worried she would wake them up if they continued speaking like this. "Do you wanna come inside?"_

_Babe nodded fervently in response, and she pointed in the direction of the back door. "Wait for me," she whispered, before hurrying downstairs as quietly as she could._

_Locking the backdoor behind her, the two made their way past the fence and towards the fields they've only ever spent time in during the day. They walked the familiar route, his shoulder occasionally bumping her arm. Eleanor looked up at the taller young man and smiled. He looked different under the moonlight. She blinked twice to take a mental photograph._

_They once again found themselves by the lake. Their lake._

_"I kind of wanted to talk," Babe said, settling himself down on a dry rock. "About enlisting." Eleanor nodded, settling herself right down beside him. The air was colder that night, much different from the warmth of summer. The whole world felt a lot colder._

_"My brothers," he continued, tossing pebbles upon the surface of the water, "They got drafted, so have our neighbours. Ma' won't let me go, though." Eleanor looked at the redhead questioningly, and he just lifted his hands in response. "Ya know, the hand thing."_

_Quiet, she bit her lip. "I kind of agree," she whispered, looking down at her lap. A flash of anger crossed his face, but quickly disappeared when he looked at her. Instead, he took out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket, lighting it up and taking a long drag._

_"I didn't know you smoked," she mumbled, watching him._

_Babe shrugged and puffed a cloud of smoke,"Only sometimes when I got things on my mind." Eleanor wasn't sure if she liked it. She blinked twice again._

_The two sat there, watching the surface of the water ebb and flow, the sound of crickets chirping drowning out the thudding in Eleanor's ears. They continued to sit in silence until she mustered the courage to ask him, "Are you mad at me?"_

_Babe chuckled and took another drag from his cigarette, "I wish. I think its physically impossible for me to be mad at you."_

_"Then what is it?" Eleanor replied, a frown forming on her face, "You can tell me anything."_

_He stayed quiet for awhile, finding the right words to say, and then finally chose to settle with the truth, "I'm scared." Eleanor turned away, for she was scared too. "I asked you here because if I wanted anyone to know, I wanted it to be you."_

_Eleanor chided herself in her head for never knowing what to say, and never having the right words._

_"If," he continued, turning to her, "If I go, I want you to know something." She nodded, turning to face him as well. "Wherever I go, I promise you, it'll be you I'm thinking about. You in these fields, you reading your books with your nose scrunched, you right now, under the moon. That's what I'll be thinking about."_

_"What are you talking about?" she furrowed her eyebrows, confusion painted on her face._

_Babe shook his head and released a dry laugh,"For someone who reads so much romance novels, you sure are dense." Eleanor frowned at this, and nudged him with her shoulder. "I'm telling you I'm in love with you, Eleanor Robinson."_

_Her mouth_ _fell_ _agape, and the two watch_ _ed_ _each other. Suddenly, Eleanor_ _snatched_ _the cigarette from his mouth,_ _took_ _a drag, and violently_ _coughed_ _out smoke._

_"What the hell was that?" Babe_ _exclaimed_ _, holding back a laugh._

_"I have to be daring for once, right?" Eleanor took a deep breath, her hands shaking from the cold, "I'm in love with you too."_

_Babe exhaled, tilted her chin with his fingers, and pressed his lips onto hers. Eleanor's eyes widened, before closing and leaning into the redheaded boy who captured her heart._

_They sat there in the dark, the sound of water, crickets, and their heartbeats filling their ears._


	9. VIII.

"Eleanor," Amelia said, lifting her head and wagging her finger like her grandmother had done to her so many times, "You two did not do the dirty by a lake. I need you to tell me that isn't true!"

Her grandmother's eyes flashed in horror and she covered her mouth, "We did no such thing! My Babe was not like that." She leaned back in her rocking chair and smiled, reminiscing, "He kissed me, brushed off all the dirt that was on my clothes, and walked me home. He waited till I he saw me by my window before leaving."

_It was the start of fall of 1942._

_She and Babe had been dating for nearly a year now. He still called her Eggs, but a long list of pet names were added to it, like darling and honey. But Eggs was still her favorite._

_They were seated by the lake once more, this time with their backs to each other. He leaned his head back, resting it on her shoulder. "Okay, your turn." he said, scratching his ankle. The grass around the lake had gotten taller and tickled their ankles._

_"I wanna move to New York," she whispered in response. They had done this often, turning their backs to each other so they could share secrets. "I get really jealous whenever Dolores stays with her aunt during summers, but I can't help but listen to all the stories she tells. New York sounds magnificent."_

_"We could go," Babe replied, placing his hand gently on hers._

_"I would like that," she smiled, turning her head to see him from her peripheral, "I would like that a lot." Eleanor paused, imagining the two of them taking a boat to see the Statue of Liberty. Babe would probably have his arms around her, right?_

_"Your turn," Eleanor said, nudging him with her elbow. "Give me a secret."_

_She felt Babe stiffen behind her, and fought the urge to turn to face him. "Promise me you won't get mad," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Eleanor nudged him again, urging him to tell her. "I enlisted. For the Airborne."_

_The Airborne. Men who enlisted would jump_ _out of_ _planes. Her cousin had signed up as well. The image of them on a boat together disappeared, and was replaced with one of him falling from a plane. "You can't jump from a plane, you'll splat on the ground!" she exclaimed, turning to face him and holding him by his shoulders._

_"Parachutes exist, Eggs." he whispered, knowing full well that wasn't what she was upset about. "And besides, they get paid $50 more. Pa_ _could use the extra money." Babe sheepishly grinned, though it never reached his eyes._

_Eleanor stayed silent, her arms going limp on her sides, "When do you go?"_

_"Next week. Thursday."_

_"Thursday?" she nearly yelled, covering her mouth in horror, "And you only chose to tell me now? I can't believe you, Babe!"_

_"I didn't know how to tell you," he tried to defend himself, moving closer to her, but Eleanor moved away, "I knew you'd disagree."_

_"I do disagree." she whispered, refusing to look him in the eye, "You can't leave me."_

_"I'm not leaving you," Babe raised his voice, grabbing her hand but the young woman wouldn't listen. She snatched her hand away. "I'm coming back."_

_She pressed her hands against her chest, looking down at her lap, tears falling from her eyes. "How do you know that?"_

_"What?" he couldn't believe his ears, his voice awfully quiet, "What did you just say?"_

_"How do you know you're coming back, Babe?" Eleanor practically shouted, the entire forest coming to like at the sound of her voice. A flock of birds flew out from a tree behind her, the sound of their wings flapping silencing them both._

_"I thought you'd have more faith in me, Eleanor Robinson," Babe mumbled, standing and dusting off his pants._

_Eleanor walked home on her own that afternoon._


	10. IX.

"He left just like that?" she asked, crossing her legs and leaning on her palms, "Why were you so upset anyway?"

Her grandmother shrugged, "I was young and selfish. I realized after that the world needed him more than I did." Amelia nodded silently, and her grandmother continued, "But at that time, I told myself: Eleanor, if you ignore him, he won't go. I was wrong, of course. He still had to go."

_She raced through the train station, weaving through the multitudes of people. Nearly a hundred of them stood there, hugging their mothers and kissing their lovers goodbye. Boys she had grown up with, had gone to school with, now looked like men preparing for the unknown._

_She didn't care about any of them. She needed to find Babe._

_A streak of red, and Eleanor turned— A woman in a red coat. A flash of crimson— A backpack filled with clothes. Bright red hair— Babe._

_Eleanor ran towards him, screaming his name. He turned to her, his face showing surprise, sadness, but most importantly, love. She threw her arms around him and Babe lifted her from the ground. They held each other for what felt like an eternity._

_"I'm sorry," she whispered, sobs escaping her lips, "I love you, I'm sorry." Eleanor was crying, she realized she had a week with him, and instead of being with him, she had pretended he did not exist. "I promised I would never ignore you."_

_Babe buried his head in her hair, inhaling so hard in an attempt to remember what she felt like."I'll wait for you for as long as you want me to," Eleanor whispered into his chest, holding onto him so tight in fear that the world would take him away_ _, "I have faith you'll come back to me."_

_"I promise I'll come back for you," he said, holding her head in his hands and planting a kiss on her forehead, "Promise me you'll be waiting."_

_"I'll have a dozen eggs waiting for you."_


	11. X.

Grandmother smiled wistfully, cupping her tea in her hands. "Every month he would send me a letter about training, the people he had met, and snippets of his experiences," she said, "He never told me what exactly went on, but Babe stayed the same. He always told me he was coming back for me."

_Eleanor wiped her greasy palms on her workpants and picked up a tray from the cafeteria. She had dropped out of highschool a few months after Babe had left, much to the disdain of her mother, but so did so many other women. They were all taking up jobs they would have never even considered in the past in order to support the troops._

_She worked as an aircraft technician, but her job mainly consisted of cleaning and delivering supplies needed for maintenance. Working around planes, she felt as close to Babe as she could possibly be. Often finding herself watching whenever they would test our the airplanes, Eleanor wondered what it must have felt like to jump. Was he afraid?_

_What a stupid question that was. Of course he was, all of them were. That made her appreciate him so much more._

_Sitting at the end, she took out a notebook and began writing. It was reminiscent to her times in highschool when she would write stories, except this time, she was writing down things to tell Babe through her letters. She would tell him all sorts of things, how Dolores had found someone the last summer she was in New York, and how they were to be wed. Eleanor would tell him how jealous she was that her best friend would be living there, but she was happy for her, and besides, she and Babe would definitely visit right?_

_As the work day ended, she made her way home. Her siblings were all still in school, but her younger brother, Max, had made many attempts to lie his way into the paratroopers. Face like a baby, none of the recruitment officers fell for it, but still, he tried. Eleanor looked up at him for that._

_"Mother," she called, placing the letter on the dining table, "I have another letter for him. Could you go mail it again tomorrow?" Her mother was the one in charge of sending off the letters they all wrote to her cousins at war, and Babe, of course, as Eleanor was busy working a 12-hour shift._

_Her mother looked down at the letter on the table and pursed her lips. She nodded once and picked it up, putting it on the pile of letters that were to be sent out tomorrow. They were all encouraged to write to raise up morale, and Eleanor hoped that her stories from home would make him fight harder so he could come home._


	12. Her Letter.

My dearest Babe,

I am writing as I eat my lunch, my hands are all greasy and dirty, and no matter how much I scrub, I can't get all the grease off of me. You would laugh at me if you could see me now.

How are you? What is your training like? Have you met anyone new? I want to hear everything (if you're permitted to tell me, that is). Tell me what Europe is like.

Me? I'm doing okay. Max tried to lie his way into the army again last month. I think he doesn't realize that the recruitment officers haven't changed and they recognize him from last time. I know you'd appreciate his effort though. Have I told you Dolores was getting married? She moved to New York just a month ago, and sent me invites to her wedding even though I'm sure she knows I won't be able to go. She has an invite for you too. I told her you would've loved to be there.

I miss you. Not a minute passes that I don't think of what it would have been like if any of this had never happened. What do you think we would be doing now? M̷a̷y̷b̷e̷ ̷w̷e̷ ̷w̷o̷u̷l̷d̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷i̷n̷ ̷N̷e̷w̷ ̷Y̷o̷r̷k̷ ̷a̷s̷ ̷w̷e̷l̷l̷.̷ Regardless, I want you to know that I'm blessed to have you in my life. Not every girl can say her boyfriend volunteered to jump out of a perfectly good airplane, and with a face like yours, its safe to say that I'm the luckiest.

I̷ ̷n̷e̷e̷d̷ ̷y̷o̷u̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷c̷o̷m̷e̷ ̷h̷o̷m̷e̷.̷ Keep fighting. The United States, the whole world even, is watching you with pride. I love you, and I'll be here waiting.

With all my heart,

_Your Eggs_


	13. XI.

"You signed all your letters as Eggs?" Amelia grinned, gently picking up her grandmother's empty cup that once had tea, "You really called yourself that?" She leaned against the sink, turning on the faucet, and scrubbed at the dishes.

"That was Babe's name for me," the woman smiled sadly, "And calling myself that made me feel like he was still here." Amelia turned to see her grandmother staring out the window.

_"El," her sister called from downstairs, "Mails here!"_

_She had just woken up and was staring at the ceiling when she heard her sisters voice. Sitting up quickly, she didn't bother to comb her hair or wash her face. Eleanor ran downstairs, skipping a few steps on the way down but still managing to maintain her balance. Babe had finally written back!_

_A month had gone by since she had mailed him that first letter, and everyday, she anxiously awaited for his reply to arrive._

_Her mother watched her with curious eyes as she rushed to their mailbox and took out the letter. Eleanor did a little dance and stopped when she realized her mother was standing by the door frame. "So," she began, drying her hands on her apron,"I thought he'd never write back."_

_Eleanor stuck out her tongue and walked right past her, bounding up towards her room. Her mother watched as she walked up the stairs, the same Eleanor who had been lethargic all month wondering if her letter would ever get to him was suddenly so full of life again._

_She sighed and went back to doing the dishes._


	14. His Letter.

My Eggs,

You have no idea how much shit I got from the men for starting my letter to you this way. I too am writing this as I eat lunch. And you were absolutely right, I would laugh if I was there to see you. We always laughed whenever we were together.

I'm doing a lot better than when I first arrived, that's for sure. All the men have managed to make me feel welcomed, but none more so than Bill Guarnere. He's from Philadelphia too, and everyone here calls him "gonorrhea" because of how unfortunate his last name is. Most of these men fought on D-Day, and they all act a little older than us replacements. I haven't felt so young in ages. Sadly, I can't tell you anything about our training, but I can tell you about Europe.

Its cold and it rains all the time here in England. The days are a lot shorter, and they make me miss the afternoons we spent in the fields where it felt like time never moved. Despite that, the people are lovely, and the country itself is beautiful. I feel like you would have loved it here, this whole place feels like one of those story books you would have read. I wish you were here to see it.

I'm glad you told Dolores I would've loved to be there at her wedding, because that's the truth. Give her and her husband my congratulations. Max, on the other hand, doesn't receive a single congratulations from me. Tell him to keep trying though, we could use someone with his persistence in the battlefield.

I miss you too. And not a minute goes by that I don't wish you were beside me.

Continue waiting for me. We still have a boat ride to catch in New York Harbour.

And with all of mine,

Babe.


	15. XII.

Amelia sat herself down once again on the floor beside her grandmother, taking the old woman's hand in hers. "He seemed to be happy," she said, and her grandmother looked down and smiled.

"Yes," she paused, "And I was happy for him, but every time I read his letters, I would cry. They made me realize how far away he really was, and it hurt."

_Her mother stood by her door frame, taking in the sight of her daughter curled up in bed, the letter from Babe pressed to her chest. Eleanor's eyes were puffy and red from all the crying she had just done._

_"El," her mother whispered, sitting at her bed, placing a tender hand on her shoulder. "Bad news?" she asked, stroking her daughter's hair gently._

_Eleanor looked up and shook her head. "Good news," she plainly replied, sitting up and curling up under her mother's arm. "It's just that I miss him, and only now have I realized how far away he truly is."_

_Her mother didn't reply, but bit her lip. The two of them sat in silence as Eleanor continued to cry, and her mother's heart continued to harden._

┈┈

_Over the course of a few months, Eleanor continued to write to him. Despite every letter she had received, she continued to cry each time she read his reply._

_They had all learned about the failure of Operation Market Garden, and Eleanor almost fainted when she had learned that it was his company in the attack. She was no longer patient when awaiting his replies. Instead, she paced. She wrote. Paced. Wrote. Relapse._

_While at work, she would talk to anybody and everybody, trying to gather information about what was happening on the other side of the Atlantic. Everyone noticed her becoming frantic._

_Her mother walked in one day, noticing the stack of papers that served as her letters to Babe. "Darling," she whispered, concern plastered all over her face, "You gotta eat something, El. I made banana bread."_

_Eleanor grunted, then turned to face her mother, her eyes swollen yet again."I don't know why he hasn't written back yet." she said, "What if something happened to him?"_

_"Eleanor," her mother gasped, seeing her face. She held her daughter's hand and pulled her onto the bed, "There's no use thinking like this. I mailed his letter just a week ago. You need to calm down."_

_Eleanor scrunched her eyebrows and exclaimed, "I can't calm down! I don't know what's happening and no one will tell me anything."_

_Concerned, her mother smoothed out Eleanor's hair and sighed. Her other children were growing scared as well, seeing how frantic their eldest had become. Max had stopped trying to enlist for the army a_ _ltogether_ _, but she wasn't complaining._

_"I'll bring you some food," was all her mother decided to reply, standing up quickly. Before she headed downstairs, she watched as her daughter, once the strongest in their household, fall apart in front of a stack of paper._

_She decided to take matters into her own hands._


	16. XIII.

"He didn't reply again," her grandmother said quietly, "I still sent out over 30 pages of questions. If he had seen it, I'm sure he would've thought I was nuts."

"What did you do then?" Amelia asked, resting her head on her grandmother's knee.

Her grandmother shrugged, "I wrote. Not letters, but stories."

_Eleanor was once again hunched over her desk, the clock striking past midnight. She had work in a couple of hours, but she needed to finish this chapter. She had been writing again, this time a kids book about the troops. Really, it was a book about how she imagined her Babe on the battlefield._

_They were brave, the men. They did not stand down in the face of adversity and fear, but instead joined arms and fought against the evil in this world. Not much older than her, she wrote about their sacrifices, what they all continued to do out of love for their people and their country._

_For some odd reason, it calmed her down. Turning off the light, she crawled back in bed but did not sleep. She was wide awake, thinking of what could have been happening in Europe. She laid there, thinking of Babe, and hoped he was thinking of her too._

_The troops were now moving deeper into Europe, they all heard. It was almost Christmas, and although everyone was tried to feel the Christmas cheer, she couldn't. Instead, she stuck to herself and wrote about the men Babe had told her about. What she imagined they would be like._

┈┈

_Christmas came and went, and still no response. The Christmas tree in the corner of their house still stood there, Eleanor having no recollection of helping them put it up. But really, she had no recollection of a lot of things anymore._

_"Goodnight," she called to her mother who was busy fixing up a pair of gloves her youngest brother had torn through while playing in the snow._

_"El," her mother replied, "Can you come in here please?" She made her way to her mother's room, and sat at the end of the bed. "How are you?"_

_That's a weird question to ask, Eleanor thought to herself. "I'm fine," she responded anyway, biting down on her lip, "Why?"_

_"We haven't heard from Babe in awhile," her mother said, hardly looking up from her knitting, "But Anne says he's doing fine."_

_So his parents still heard from him? Why hadn't he written her back then?_

_"I'm glad he's okay," she nodded slowly, but she could hear her heart breaking, "Tell them to give him my regards." Eleanor made it back to her room and shut the door behind her, taking in a deep breath. She would not cry tonight, she told herself._

_She cried herself to sleep that night._


	17. Her Letter.

Dear Babe,

How are you? Its almost midnight here in America, so that means it'd be just after sunrise for you. What does the sun look like from where you are?

The sun doesn't shine as bright as it did when we were in the fields. I haven't felt as happy as I did when we were in the fields. And if I'm being completely honest with you, I don't think I'll ever be as happy again.

Why didn't you write back? I waited everyday to hear from you again, but I never did. Your mother told mine you were doing good, who then in turn told me. I wish I read that from you myself. So why didn't you?

This is the last letter I am ever writing you, because waiting for something that might never come isn't right. I wish you would have just told me why, instead of making me wonder if you still loved me.

I know for a fact I still love you.

My heart will forever be yours,

Eleanor Robinson


	18. XIV.

The two women were silent, sadness resting between them. Amelia leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as her grandmother continued looking off into a distance. She thought she saw her shed a tear.

"What happened next, Nana?" she asked quietly, making her way to her grandmother and extending her hand for the woman to take. "Surely, it doesn't end there." The woman simply shook her head.

_It was 1945._

_The Axis Power surrendered months ago, and men were slowly making their way back home. The book Eleanor had spent months writing on was getting published, thanks to both her own hard work as well as money she saved for months throughout the war._

_Eleanor looked up from the receptionist table she was stationed at. She had been working in a dentists office, choosing not to return to school but continue helping her family raise money._

_"Eleanor," the dentist, Dr. Paul Gibson, called from his office, "Could you come in here please?"_

_Paul Gibson was a tall man with jet black hair and a big smile always plastered on his face. He had earned that right after all, his teeth were perfect— But that was to be expected from the town's only dentist. But in addition to that, he was a kind and gracious man, who accepted her job application despite her lack of high school diploma. He was patient with Eleanor as she learned the ropes of being his assistant, and even did most of her work sometimes. She often joked that he shouldn't have hired her at all. He would simply laugh._

_She made her way into his office and stood by his door, "Is there something you need, Dr. Gibson?"_

_"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Paul?" he frowned teasingly, fixing up all the papers on his desk, "Could you be a dear and ring up Ms. Morales? I'll have to move her appointment to 3PM."_

_"Of course, Paul," Eleanor replied, placing emphasis on his name. Paul simply laughed and tapped his temple twice, before picking up his coat and heading out the door._

_Eleanor locked the office door behind her and settled herself back in her chair. Quickly the number to Ms. Morales' house, you informed her of the schedule change and went back to writing in her notebook. She started a new book, this time she hoped to make it a little longer, and about her experiences working as an aircraft technician. Whenever she had nothing to do at the clinic, she would write._

_Not realising how quickly time flew, the doorbell rang, and Eleanor looked out the glass door to see Ms. Morales. She rushed to the door, quickly unlocking it and letting the elderly woman in. "Hi, Ms. Morales," she greeted, glancing up at the clock hanging on the wall, "Dr. Gibson will be here any minute. Please, sit down." Eleanor gestured towards the seating area before heading back behind her desk._

_"How have you been, dear?" Ms. Morales asked, watching Eleanor from her seat, "How is Dr. Gibson?"_

_"I'm good, thank you so much for asking," she replied, standing so she could see the woman from behind her desk, "And I think Dr. Gibson is doing good as well. How have you been, ma'am?"_

_Ms. Morales smiled, squinting her eyes with a smile, "I've been okay. Has Paul asked you out yet?"_

_Eleanor's eyes nearly bulged out of her head and she said with a stutter, "Excuse me, ma'am?"_

_"Oh!" the elderly woman exclaimed, just as Paul walked in through the front door, "Nothing, pretend I didn't say anything."_

_"What is this about?" Paul asked with a nervous laugh, "Sorry for the wait, Ms. Morales. Please, follow me." He opened the door to his office and allowed the woman in before quickly turning to Eleanor and whispering, "Thanks for keeping her company."_

_Ms. Morales needed to get her dentures fixed. The procedure lasted less than an hour, and Eleanor could hear the old woman and the dentist chitchatting behind the closed office door. Ask me out, she thought to herself, Why would Paul ask me out?_

_Once the procedure was done, Eleanor guided Ms. Morales to the front door, made sure she had someone to take her home, and began walking back to her desk when she heard Paul call her for the second time that day._

_She rapped her knuckles on his office doorframe and peeked her head in, "Can I help you with something else, Paul?" she asked, remembering this time to use his first name like he requested._

_"No, no," Paul shook his head quickly, standing up and pointing at the chair across his desk, "Come sit, Eleanor." She hastily made it towards the chair and sat, nervously hoping he wasn't going to ask her out._

_"I want you to cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day," Paul said, tapping his chin, and Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief, "Because I booked us a reservation in Rovelli's up on mainstreet." Too soon._

_Eleanor bit her lip, trying to hide her hesitancy. Paul was a good person, he was always happy and laughing, and always managed to uplift the entire mood of the room. Surely, she could go on one date with him, right? The only problem was he was no Babe._

_"What do you say?" he urged, a big smile on his face, "I could go alone, but it'd be a crying shame. I heard they have such great parfaits."_

_Eleanor exhaled sharply and quickly nodded."Fine," she laughed, standing to go cancel his other appointments, "I do love parfaits."_

_That night, the two sat across each other in one of the most expensive restaurants in town. Eleanor was fidgeting in her seat, feeling very self-conscious of how she was dressed. "You could've told me to dress up at least," she whispered, and Paul let out a laugh that calmed her nerves._

_"You look amazing, El," he replied, "Don't worry." He had never called her anything but Eleanor before. Hearing a nickname come from his lips was foreign, but not uncomfortable. Eleanor smiled as the night was nowhere near as awkward as she had imagined it to be._

_Paul ordered for the both of_ _them_ _after asking_ _her_ _what_ _she_ _wanted to eat, and then placed his hands on the table. "This is great, isn't it?" he grinned, taking in the atmosphere of the restaurant, "I've always wanted to have dinner here, but I was always too shy to ask you."_

_Eleanor couldn't help but smile, trying to ease him of his worries. It was funny, because she was so hesitant to go out with him in the first place. "I didn't expect you to ask me, honestly." she replied, looking around as well, "It truly is beautiful here."_

_He nodded, watching the young woman, "Really beautiful."_

_A blush crept onto Eleanor's cheeks, and she looked back down at her lap. Paul noticed and cleared his throat, "I wanna ask you something a bit weird." he said, fidgeting with his fork on the table. Eleanor smiled nervously, tilting her head at the man. "Are you the author of The Easy Men? I noticed you had the same name_ _as the author_ _but never had the chance to ask you. I watch you at your desk and you always seem to be writing."_

_Eleanor was shocked, she didn't think anybody read her book. "Actually, yes I am. You've read it?"_

_"Read it?" Paul scoffed, taking a copy out of his work bag, "I love it. You write of these men so intimately, anybody would think you were at the frontline with them. How'd you do it?"_

_Babe. That was the clear answer to his question, but she couldn't say that. "I was in," Eleanor paused, trying to find the right words to say, "Correspondence. I was in correspondence with one of the soldiers, and he spoke so fondly of his men that it inspired me to write."_

_"You are absolutely incredible," Paul whispered, not asking further about it, and instead continued marveling at her._

_Once they concluded their dinner, they walked back to the bus stop to head home. Eleanor shivered— She was not meant to be out till past 9, and thus, didn't bring a coat to shield her from the cold nighttime air. Paul took notice, and quickly took off his and wrapped it around her._

_"Thank you," she smiled, looking up at him. The feeling of guilt that she had been betraying Babe she had just hours earlier diminished slowly as the night progressed. And soon, she was more accepting towards her boss' advances._

_"Tonight was wonderful, Paul," she said with a smile, and the man took it as an opportunity to link his hand with hers. "Thank you for inviting me out for dinner."_

_"Any chance that we could do it again?" he replied with a coy smile._

_"As long we get parfaits after."_


	19. XV.

"Grandpa was your boss?" Amelia exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand, "Dang, Nana, you hit it big!"

"Yes, your grandfather was my boss, and even better yet, he was my biggest supporter," the older woman grinned cheekily, poking her granddaughter's cheek, "Oh, I loved Paul. Even before his death, when your mother was just a teenager, he treated me like a queen. But I wouldn't lie and say I wasn't waiting for Babe." Amelia nodded slowly, understanding the hope her grandmother had. "On our wedding day, I finally understood why people say to be careful of what you wish for."

_Eleanor stood, staring at herself in the mirror. I look nothing like myself, she thought, and as though her mother read her thoughts, she agreed. "You've never looked prettier," her mother mumbled, tearing up._

_For some reason, that upset her, because there had been many days she felt prettier. Eleanor could even name a few— The second day she delivered eggs to Babe's house, the night he came to speak to her. Stop, she thought, pushing back the thoughts of him to the back of her mind. Paul, she repeated to herself mentally, and thought of his wide smile and the past 5 months they'd been together._

_5 months. That's how long they dated until he quickly popped the question. Eleanor said yes without hesitation. She did not hesitate then, and she wouldn't hesitate now. Standing in front of the church doors, Eleanor's heart beat in her chest. It was so loud, she worried they would all see it through her gown._

_The doors swung open and she saw him standing at the pulpit. Her Babe. How he looked like against the moon, with his red hair messy at the top of his head. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head, not believing what she was seeing. As she blinked, he disappeared. Paul stood there, his signature wide smile plastered on his face. She refused to hesitate._

_As she walked down the aisle, her hands shook against the bouquet of flowers she gripped onto. "Gently," her mother whispered, smiling wider than Eleanor was. She smiled like it was her wedding._

_Passing by the pews filled with people she hardly knew, Eleanor suddenly wished Dolores were here. Her best friend would surely understand, and Eleanor was probably just nervous._

_So nervous, she thought she saw a flash of red hair. Stepping up into the pulpit, she held unto Paul's hand tightly, and flashed him a smile, this time genuine. All thoughts and worries were pushed into a box in her head where they would never come out again._

_As they said their vows and placed rings on each other's fingers, Eleanor couldn't rid the heavy feeling in her chest. "Will you, Paul Gibson, take Eleanor Robinson, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" she heard the priest say, but it was muffled in her ears._

_"I do," she heard Paul reply, but her eyes were blurry and she was no longer sure._

_"Do you," the priest continued, turning to her this time, "Eleanor Robinson, take Paul Gibson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"_

_Eleanor paused. Did she? She turned to face all her guests, the pews filled with people she had gotten to know in the past 5 months of being with Paul. They all smiled at her expectantly, none more so than her mother, who had tears welling in her eyes._

_Her heart fell unto the floor. Babe._

_He was seated at the back, his round eyes the complete opposite of everyone else's. Was he real? Or was she just imagining things again?_

_Babe shook his head, and mouthed a quiet no. He was definitely real. From afar, he looked exactly the same. His hair was shorter and his shoulders broader, but his eyes were just as they were the day he had left her at that train station. She thought of him under the moonlight, she thought of him laying in the grass with his arm over his eyes._

_Her Babe was here. In the flesh._

_The priest looked at her, growing anxious, and everyone leaned in to see her response. Babe shook his head again, his eyes pleading with her._

_"I do."_


	20. XVI.

"Don't get me wrong, honeybunch," her grandmother said, stroking Amelia's cheek gently, "I loved your grandfather, and I miss him every day that he's gone. But my Babe was always going to be different."

Amelia nodded, resting her cheek on her grandmother's palm, "What happened?"

"I heard from his parents he had moved away, and I thought that was the last time I would ever see him," the old woman replied, "I did forget about him eventually, and your grandfather and I moved into a nice big house a few minutes away from my childhood home."

_"Henry!" Eleanor called, wandering around the house with a tiny pair of trousers in her hands. With a house so big, it was easy for her son to hide whenever he didn't want to get dressed. Paul was at the office, and clearly she was no longer his secretary. He had fired her, upsetting her just a little bit, but insisted it was so she had more time to write._

_At first, Eleanor had all the time in the world to write, and went on to publish two more books. Then she had Henry, and she stopped writing completely. With a round stomach, another baby on the way, Eleanor often wondered how she'd take care of both children on her own since Paul was so busy. She wasn't complaining though— Her life was exquisite._

_Their kitchen had marble counters with golden handles, but she no longer cooked, and he called in a cleaner to clean the entire house thrice a week, but Eleanor always sent the woman home and chose to do it herself. In short, the house felt wrong. Too perfect._

_"There you are," she squealed, picking up her 4 year old son with hair as dark as his fathers and a smile just like hers, "You cheeky little thing." She pulled his clothes on him, careful not to hurt him, and set him down once he was dressed. Henry was the light of her life, and all the sacrifices she had made along the way were more than worth it._

_He was 2 when they had learned she had another baby on the way. Paul lifted her up into the air and spun her around, happy to be getting another Gibson. Eleanor hoped it'd be a girl. Sometimes, she also hoped it'd have red hair. But that was impossible._

_Eleanor was carrying Henry in her arms when the doorbell rang. Her son snored peacefully in her arms, and she put him down gently into his bed as to not rouse him from his sleep. The doorbell rang again, and she hobbled down the stairs slowly, her stomach heavy in front of her._

_"Hold on," she called, holding unto the railing as she reached the lowest step, slightly out of breath. It was always scary for her to climb down the stairs now that she was later on in her pregnancy._

_Eleanor swung open the door, nearly falling over._

_Babe stood on her doorstep with a basket of eggs._


	21. XVII.

_"Babe," she whispered, her breath hitched. "What— What are you doing here?"_

_"I need to talk to you," Babe replied, his eyes hopeful, "I really need to speak to you."_

_Eleanor paused, her heart heavy in her chest, slowly closing the door in his face, "I can't, I'm so so-"_

_Babe interrupted her, wedging his foot between the door and the doorframe, reaching his hand to touch her, "Please. It'll just be a minute." She softened to the sound of his voice, and her shoulders slumped. Opening the door, she grabbed the sleeve of Babe's coat and pulled him inside._

_"Be quiet, my son is asleep upstairs," she whispered, "Please wait in the backyard." Eleanor pointed at the back door and walked to the bathroom, sitting herself down on the closed toilet seat._

_She couldn't breathe. Her head in her hands, she rubbed her face violently, causing her cheeks to redden. She cursed at herself in her head. Babe was in her backyard, and her husband would be home any minute. Eleanor needed to breathe. She had to breathe._

_The woman trembled as she pushed open the back door. His back was to her, and he stared out towards the horizon. She reached for him, wanting to touch him, except she couldn't. She was married, and her son was upstairs in his bed. Eleanor controlled herself._

_Babe notice_ _d_ _her and turn_ _ed_ _to face her, acknowledging her round stomach with a nod. "How many months?" he asked quietly, refusing to look Eleanor in the eye._

_"Seven," she replied, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly feeling a chill, "Henry is turning four." The man kicked at the grass, looking far older than he did 9 years ago. They were both older. When he had left, they were children with hope, and now, despite being in front of him, Eleanor had everything but._

_"You have a beautiful home," Babe said plainly, looking up at her house, "I'm happy for you."_

_Eleanor just nodded, ignoring his statements, "Why are you here, Babe?"_

_"I just wanted to ask you," he started, his eyes sad, "Why you stopped writing. I never received a reply from you." Babe bit his lip, and he shed a small tear._

_Anger built in Eleanor's chest at his accusation. "You were the one who never replied!" she exclaimed, raising her hands, "I wrote to you twice a month and never got anything back." Her voice cracked. Babe shook his head._

_Realization dawned on her._

_"My mother," Eleanor gasped, her hands trembling once more. Her mother who held onto her all the nights she had cried for him, her mother who always offered to mail her letters for her, her mother who breathed a sigh of relief when Paul had come over for dinner._

_Babe ignored her, walking to her quickly and holding her by her shoulders. "I love you," he whispered, "And I know you still love me. I saw the way you looked at me at the pulpit. I know you saw me."_

_Eleanor couldn't speak, she bit on her lip hard enough to draw blood. "I can't," she whimpered, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, "It's too late."_

_"It's not too late," Babe begged, cupping her face in his hands like he did 9 years ago in that train station, "It's never too late. I saw how you looked at me in front of God."_

_"At my wedding!" she cried, pushing him away with such force that surprised even herself. Babe stumbled but reached out to her again, "You came back on my wedding," her tears streamed down her face, and Eleanor angrily wiped them away with the back of her hand, "You had 2 years to come back to me, but you didn't."_

_Babe stopped, his arms falling slack on his side, "I thought you didn't want me anymore."_

_"So, you came to my wedding because you thought I'd want you then?" Eleanor exclaimed, her hands balled up into fists._

_"I thought," he continued, stuttering, "I thought if you saw me you'd realize you still loved me. Then you did see me, and I knew you still loved me." The man reached for her again, and she fell into his arms crying. Eleanor knew she couldn't even lie to him. "I know you still love me," Babe whispered, his lips pressed to her forehead._

_Eleanor couldn't breathe. She was there, in his arms, something she had hoped for since the day he left. And yet, she couldn't breathe. He held her face in his hands, tipping her chin up to bring his lips to hers when she pushed him away again._

_"What are you doing?" she yelled, covering her mouth with her hands, "I'm married!"_

_"We can run away, Eleanor," he said, moving towards her again, but with every step he took towards her, she took three back. "I got a job at a distillery company in South Philadelphia. I'll work hard," he reached into his bag that was on the ground, beside a basket of eggs, and took out a copy of her book, "This.. This is amazing. This is everything. Bill said so himself. Remember Bill? Tell me you remember, Bill. Tell me you remember the letters we wrote. Tell me you remember how it felt in those fields."_

_He was talking so fast, Eleanor couldn't reply. Of course, she remembered. She would always remember. She would forever remember the nights he would throw pebbles at her window, beckoning her to escape with him to the lake. She would remember his smell, her back pressed against his as they whispered their secrets. She would remember the love in his voice, the twinkle in his eye whenever he said her name. Eleanor would always remember, but he would never know._

_"I love you," she whispered, her eyes swollen with tears, "A part of me will always be with you under the moonlight." Babe looked up at her hopefully, pleading with her like he did all those years ago in the church. "But I cannot leave with you. I cannot destroy my family that I had worked so hard to build. Get out."_

_Eleanor pointed a hand at the door, watching as Babe picked up his bag, nodding his head slowly. With his head dropped, he started for the backdoor before turning to her and saying, "My heart will forever be yours, Eggs. I wish I came home sooner."_

_"Get out," Eleanor begged, tears falling from her face again, "Please. If you love me."_

_Babe left, and Eleanor collapsed on the grass, crying. She sobbed, for he had come with a second chance, but the chance came too late. She sobbed because her husband would come home, and she loved him, but she would never be able to love him completely. She sobbed because her son was sleeping upstairs, but his hair was not red._

_She sobbed because Babe had left for her a basket of eggs._


	22. XVIII.

"Nana," Amelia whispered, as her grandmother had tears welling in her eyes, "I'm so sorry."

The old woman shook her head vigorously, biting back her tears, "No. It was the right thing to do. I would never be able to forgive myself if I left my husband. Your uncle was young, and I was pregnant with your mother."

Amelia understood the importance family was, it was the same reason she had chosen to stay as well. "So what really happened to the letters?"

_Eleanor's shoes crunched in the gravel, the sound so familiar, she felt like a teenager again. Her round stomach and the tiny hand holding onto hers were the only indication that things have changed. Her childhood home stood, alone like it always did, the sun setting behind it, making the fields of grass look golden._

_"Nana!" Henry exclaimed, running towards the old woman who was sitting on the couch, a blanket wrapped around her fragile form. Her mother lived alone now, her siblings having moved out or gone off to college— A luxury Eleanor did not have. But she was from an entirely different time._

_Her mother smiled upon seeing them, but surprise was written all over her face. "You forgot to lock the front door again, mother," Eleanor said, her frustration hidden by her care. "I brought you food."_

_"Oops," her mother muttered, standing up slowly to give her a hug. She was sick, and Eleanor could tell, but her mother refused to both be taken to the hospital or live with them. Instead, Eleanor came twice a week to take care of her. She wasn't supposed to come until tomorrow, but what she had to ask couldn't wait._

_She hugged her mother tightly, now much taller than the woman, and Eleanor then helped her sit back down. "Henry," she said calmly, placing him on the ground with some toys she had brought._

_The older woman looked at her, knowing something was definitely wrong. "What is it, El?" she asked, pushing back a strand of her daughter's hair behind her ear._

_Eleanor didn't know what to say, and she hated herself for never knowing what to say. How could one accuse their mother of such thing?_

_Her mother seemed to have realized, because the next thing she said lifted the weight off of Eleanor's chest. "You found out, didn't you?" Eleanor was right. She exhaled sharply._

_"Why, mother?" she whispered, her tears threatening to fall once more, "Why did you do it?"_

_"You were so scared," the older woman replied, her face filled with remorse, "You were scared and there was nothing I could do." She gripped Eleanor's hand in hers, planting a tender kiss on her daughter's hand. "I thought," she took a deep breath, "I thought if you hated him, everything would go back to normal."_

_"But nothing is back to normal," Eleanor pulled her hand away, and her mother looked shocked._

_"It wasn't healthy for you, my dear," her mother continued, "I just wanted to take care of you."_

_"I made a promise to wait for him, mother," Eleanor said, her voice barely above a whisper, "And you let me betray him."_

_Her mother stayed silent, realizing that the daughter she only tried to protect was even more hurt now._

_"I live in a beautiful home with a man who never stops reminding me how much he loves me. I have everything I wanted, but it's not normal, and I'm not happy." Eleanor was crying again, for the thousandth time that week._

_Her mother held onto her shoulders tightly, now crying unto her daughter's shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, and they sat there with their arms around each other, trembling._

_Eleanor was angry. She was angry at her mother for not mailing her letters. She was angry at Babe for not coming to see her right away. She was angry at Paul for being so kind and loving and too good for her. But most importantly, she was angry at herself because she couldn't blame any of them._

_Her mother stood, wobbling on her feet towards the cabinet that held their precious plates. The old woman kneeled, reaching under the cabinet and taking out a dusty brown box. She sat there for a few seconds, wiping away her tears._

_"I knew you would find out eventually," her mother began, pushing the box towards Eleanor's feet,"I saved his letters for you as well."_

_Picking it up quickly, Eleanor dusted off the top of the box and opened it, her eyes greeted by a stack of letters. She started to cry again, and her mother stood to get her a glass of water. "I'll give you time alone," she whispered._

_"Eleanor," she paused by the kitchen door, "I was wrong."_


	23. His Letter.

Eleanor Robinson,

Merry Christmas!

I don't know if you'll ever receive this, but its Christmas night, I'm in a hole in the ground, and I'm thinking of you. I hope you're well.

I remember the day you stepped onto our front yard, a basket in your hands. It was the summer of 1940, and we had just moved in from South Philadelphia. I knew then, seeing you in your dress, that our lives would be intertwined. I don't know why I knew, I guess I always knew.

I didn't fall in love with you right away. You were so nervous to talk to me, I thought I'd mess around and ask you to buy more, thinking you'd figure it out. But you didn't. Instead, you came again with more eggs, never once asking where I put them. The second time I asked you for more, it was just so I'd see you again.

Remember the night I told you I loved you? That wasn't planned at all. I was gonna get you flowers, show up on your doorstep, and ask you out properly. Except I realized that nothing good we've ever done was planned. That night, as I was laying in bed, I promised myself that I'd marry you, Eleanor Robinson.

I keep racking my brain trying to figure out why you haven't written. The best case scenario is that you got caught up at work. How is everything there? I hope its good. The worst case scenario is that you've given up. You'd tell me if you did right? I hope you would.

Regardless, if this reaches you, I want you to know that I love you. Forever, until the end of time itself, I'll love you Eleanor Robinson. Even if you don't want me too.

With a basket of eggs and train tickets to New York,

Forever your Babe


	24. XIX.

"Why are you telling me this?" Amelia asked, eyes filled with tears. She looked up to her grandmother, who was holding the last letter from Babe in her hands. She had kept it, and all the other letters previous.

"I want you to understand, Amelia," the old woman replied, stroking her granddaughter's hair gently, "That I loved your grandfather, and this lifetime was meant to be spent with him. And no matter how much my heart wanted Babe, it was never going to be us for a reason."

 _That was terrible news,_ Amelia thought to herself, _To love someone and let go of a chance to be with them._

"We all stayed in that house that felt wrong until your grandfather passed away," her grandmother continued, placing Babe's letter in Amelia's hands gently, "We then moved back into this house with my mother, and we've all stayed here ever since."

Her grandmother trembled as she stood, wobbling to the kitchen window that faced the wide horizon, "I often stared out of this window my mother used to watch out of, realizing she must've seen Babe and I all afternoon."

"Wait," Amelia perked up, her eyes twinkling, "You see us?" Her grandmother responded with a coy smile.

Staring out the window, she continued, her voice sad, "I always hoped he would return at my doorstep with a basket of eggs like I had done for him so many times, but he never did."

"Where is he now, Nana?" Amelia asked, still seated on the floor, "Surely you can go see him now."

"Oh," her grandmother waved off the idea with a hand, "He moved back to South Philadelphia to work at that distillery he got a job in, but I heard his family moved back into town after he passed."

Nodding absentmindedly, Amelia thought deeply about her grandmother's first love. "Do you see any of them around?"

"I do," the old woman replied, turning to lean on the kitchen counter, "In fact, I see his grandson almost all the time. The first time I saw him, I knew exactly who he was. He also has striking red hair."

Amelia paused, realizing just exactly what her grandmother had been telling her the whole time. _Red hair._

"Nana," she breathed heavily, standing up slowly and walking to the older woman, "What's Babe's name?"

Her grandmother gripped her hand tightly. "Edward James Heffron," she whispered, a knowing smile on her face, and Amelia's world tilted over.

"James is the striking image of his grandfather. Go."


	25. XX.

Amelia ran out of the house, down the gravel path her grandmother had walked over and over, decades ago delivering eggs. The same gravel path that led her to Babe also managed to lead Amelia to her first love.

She couldn't breathe, her mind was spinning. Racing towards the fields she spent every night with James in since they had met, towards the lake where he had told her he loved her. The same lake Babe had stolen her grandmother's heart.

Amelia saw him, his back was to her, and he was watching the surface of the water glimmer. His red hair dazzling underneath the setting sun, and for a brief second, Amelia thought it was Babe, and she her grandmother. This must've been how she saw him as well. Amelia blinked twice, storing this memory in a locked box in her heart.

"James Heffron," she called, and he turned slowly at the sound of her voice. His face was filled with surprise, remorse, but most importantly, love. She blinked twice again.

"Amelia, I thought-" she cut him off, throwing her arms around James' shoulders. 

They stood there, arms wrapped around each other, and he held her tightly to his chest. She heard his heartbeat, and thought of Babe and her grandmother at the train station, never realizing it would be their last time to hold each other. With each beat, she thought of their whispered secrets, a basket of eggs, and a boat ride in New York harbour.

"This lifetime," Amelia mumbled, cupping his face with her hands, planting a tender kiss on his lips, "In this lifetime, I'm meant to be with you."


	26. Epilogue.

Eleanor watched from the kitchen window as the two lovers joined hands. They were laughing about something, something her ears couldn't hear. She watched them, just like her mother did many, many years ago. But she was not her mother. She wouldn't be like her mother.

Despite the sadness in her heart, Eleanor smiled. A smile she knew no one had seen in years since she left that train station in 1942. "Do you see them, Babe?" she whispered to no one in particular, "We let that happen."

And it was the truth. Had she run away with him when he showed up at her door with a basket of eggs, she would never have met Paul with his bright smile and kind heart, she would never realize the unconditional love she had for her mother, and she would have never have had her Amelia.

She silently thanked the universe for giving her love with Babe a chance, but now she understood why it was never meant to happen. Amelia needed her chance, and Eleanor was going to make sure she took it.

Eleanor watched tearfully as the young man lifted her granddaughter in the air, thinking of all the times Babe had done that to her himself.

They looked just like them, but from another lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I just wanna say thank you to everyone who read This Lifetime.
> 
> It's the first ever full fanfic I've written, and despite it's length and how cheesy it is, I put so much time, effort, and love into this fic. I think we often forget about how the war was dealt with behind enemy lines, and the fact that, though their lives weren't barraged with gunfire, it was also put on a standstill. This ones for those who were left behind, and were expected to continue their lives as normal.
> 
> If you made it this far, kudos for surviving my practice writing! You, reader, make me happy. And I hope my writing has made you feel something as well.
> 
> Till next time! (which means The Art of Forgiveness 😉)
> 
> With love,  
> Giana.


End file.
